Power Up Gambia- GamBlog

Day 13

2008-02-03T22:03:00.000-08:00

January 16, 2008

Perhaps because I’m in England my sarcasm is particularly biting like the bone chilling winds here. Or perhaps I now feel comfortable enough in my surroundings that I can rip into any, and everything.

This morning in The Gambia was uneventful enough. We dined on tea, bread, otherwise known as tapa lapa, and butter for the umpteenth time. The butter was a luxury that we could only find in Banjul and so were the bananas we feasted on. We checked out of the hotel and met with GamSolar to recap and create a plan for the future. After that, we ran a few errands in and around Banjul then went to the airport.

As detailed in a previous entry, the Banjul airport is nothing special. We plopped down in a couple of seats and were immediately bombarded by a platoon of waiters trying to get us to order drinks from the bar. After turning away 7 of them, I think they finally realized that we didn’t want anything. Per usual, the plane was late arriving so that meant we were late in departing. More quality time spent with the waiters trying to sell us 80 dalasi ($4!) bottles of water!

After getting on the airplane, I decided it was probably the heaviest plane ever to lift off ground. Though it was only a 737, I’m almost positive it surpassed any weight any 747, 787 or U.S. Army cargo plane could ever carry. This was due entirely to the body weight of its passengers. My row alone probably weighed about 700 pounds. Adding to the overall discomfort of sitting with this much body mass in a confined area was the lack of in-flight entertainment. So, for 6 hours straight, I sat nestled amongst strong competitors for the world’s heaviest person competition all while listening to them scream and shout because the plane was rocking quite a bit. I wonder why it was such a bumpy ride, folks.

When we finally landed at the airport and collected our bags, we beelined for the telephone to call our hotel so they could send the shuttle over. After waiting for 7 rings (which may have been hotel policy to wait that long) the gentlemen behind the counter finally answered the phone so they could tell me that the shuttle didn’t run after 10 PM. They informed us that we would have to take a taxi, but no fear, it would cost the same as taking their shuttle. So we grumpily walked outside, into the rain, and quickly got a taxi.

The taxi ride naturally took twice as long as we remembered it taking, and so our fare was also about twice as much as the shuttle would have cost. The real kicker was that the taxi driver stopped at the gate to the parking lot and told us we would have to get out there and walk the 300 yards to the door in the pouring rain. We were NOT happy. We did manage however to grab all of our bags and scurry them to the front door of the hotel. When we got to the front door, which thankfully was covered, we were unable to enter because it was locked. We pushed the button for the desk managers to buzz us in, but once again, they took their sweet time in realizing we were outside in the cold rain. Needless to say, we were thrilled to collapse into our room after a long day of travel. It felt good to fall asleep without fear of mosquitoes infecting me with a potentially deadly disease.

The trip, sad to say, has come and gone faster than the kids I played soccer with a few days ago. I knew that would happen. It’s so hard to believe that I had planned this trip in July and now it’s already over. Nevertheless, I believe I am inextricably connected with Power Up Gambia. I was fortunate enough to travel to a place that most people in their lives can only dream about seeing. I did indeed get to see how “the other half lives” and they are certainly images and thoughts that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I am truly looking forward to the progress of this project. When it's complete, we're going to save hundreds of lives. Maybe even thousands! The future fundraisers for Power Up Gambia will be so much fun. I look forward to the April 19th gala evening at Hagley in Wilmington as well as Renewable Energy Day on the 20th at the same location. Both of these events will get the message out that these types of energy are not just the answer for places like The Gambia, they should have a very prominent role in our future here in the U.S. as well!

Look for more updates on Power Up Gambia both here and on the website, http://www.powerupgambia.org!

with african love,
jz

Day 12

2008-02-03T21:59:00.000-08:00

January 14, 2008

Your eyes are not deceiving you. This entry is indeed being written several days after the last. Why? It seems that the mother of African illness cast her dark shadow upon Kathryn and I. And so, for the past two days, we have been down and out. Fever, and vomiting were the major symptoms, and being sick in Africa is every bit as awful as it sounds. I slept for 24 hours straight on Saturday and I am still tired (that was 2 days ago). Kathryn slept a fair amount too, but somehow she managed to drag herself out of bed at 4 PM that afternoon. I guess there’s certain things you can’t be immunized against.

The day after the plague struck was a fairly low key day. We didn't really want to test ourselves so we took it fairly easy. We spent most of the day around the hospital finishing up our energy profiles for GamSolar. Later in the afternoon, we were invited by two of Kathryn's friends, Sainey and Sanna to enjoy some homemade baobab juice. Sainey and Sanna are twins and they were so nice to us. They spent a solid 40 minutes just making this juice for us. It's made of the juice of, you guessed it, the baobab fruit from the tree of the same name. It's a milky juice, and the boys added lots of different things to make the most delicious concoction I had consumed in...well... over a week! I know the boys must have spent a lot of money on all of the ingredients (shredded coconut, mango flavoring, vanilla extract, among other things!) and so we were so appreciative of their kindness and hard work!

After indulging in the juice, we walked over to the soccer field to watch the hospital team take on the travel team from the local soccer club. I was approached by a ton of people asking me where I was the day before, and I jokingly told them I spent the whole day scrubbing off the dirt from the last game I played in (while of course, I spent the whole day sleeping). It was a fun game to watch. The atmosphere was totally electric- everyone in the village came out to watch the game! At one point in the game, a goat seemed to think he was better than the guys playing and he ran out onto the field. There were loud cheers when someone on the sidelines ran out onto the field, grabbed the goat, and triumphantly raised it above his head. It was nothing like an American soccer game, but it was very exciting nevertheless!

I write this entry as I comfortably lounge by the pool back at the Safari Gardens hotel in Banjul. Our mission was accomplished in Bwiam. The solar-powered water pump was installed and is functioning, we were able to capture some great footage and pictures. Perhaps most importantly, I learned how to speak minute amounts of Mandinka which will serve me very well when applying for jobs in the United States.

Our time in The Gambia is not yet over, however. Today we also met with a woman named Isatou Ceesay. Isatou started a women’s cooperative called the Njau Recycling Cooperative back in 1997 and the co-op now has grown to 69 members. They make all kinds of products, but in my humble opinion, their most impressive products are bags they weave out of recycled plastic bags. Looking at them, you’d NEVER guess that’s what they’re made out of. They also have a very advanced business model, coming from a developing country. They teach the women of the co-op the importance of environmental friendliness. They also have safety deposit boxes at the co-op that encourage saving money. Amazingly enough, she’s accomplished all of this without formal education. Some of her items will be sold in Minnesota through an organization called A Hand in Health, a non-profit organization supporting projects in The Gambia, but we're looking for other outlets throughout the States.

Mr. Badgie also gave the three of us gifts tonight. He showered us in traditional African women’s clothing. I now have a mumu! As you can see, it looks absolutely ridiculous on white people but I will wear it with pride around these stomping grounds.

I can’t believe we head back to England tomorrow. I’m dreading this return. Life in The Gambia is simple and I know when I get back, I’ll have a massive list of emails and errands waiting for me. Nevertheless, I will with open arms greet the foods, smells and people of the U.S. of A.

with african love,

Day 8

2008-02-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

January 11, 2008

Today was a day of ups and downs. It started on a major down.

I woke up having not showered (as we all know) for two days and it immediately put me in a bad mood because not only could we not shower, but we had nearly no water in our bucket so we had to severely ration our usage for washing our face and any other necessities.

The whole morning was spent running around the hospital trying to find people, who had no cell phones. It was literally like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Of course, I couldn’t go around screaming people’s names like some crazy American because, let us not forget, it’s a hospital.

When GamSolar showed up 2:45 to begin work for the day, we realized that there were some major water pressure problems with the hospital. The main problem being that there was no pressure. So we had to open several manholes and loosen the pipe so the water would get through. After that, the water was not only working, it was FLYING. However perhaps the most difficult part of this project will be convincing staff that they can just turn on the faucet instead of carrying massive buckets of water on their heads. Some of the staff seem completely content walking outside to get water.

Later this afternoon, I met up with my friend Aminata (the lady who we lunched with yesterday) and walked over to the field to play soccer. The field is not a traditional American image of a field though. It is an open lot, with no grass. Just about 4 inches of Bwiam’s finest dust. It was basically a game of boys vs. girls, but the most miraculous moments of the game didn’t even happen during the game, but rather, during stretching and warm up. Ami led it, and it was entirely in Mandinka. So for instance, when Ami barked out that a whistle blow signaled a sprint, I found myself coughing up GambiDust many feet behind my teammates. Not because they were so fast (though I will admit, they were mighty speedy, especially for not wearing shoes and running through sand) but because I had no idea what was going on. Great- now the only white girl is slow and stupid. When we moved onto stretching, I wasn’t totally sure what to do. We started by doing standing stretches, which of course I was able to mimic. This worked out just peachy, until Ami started yelling at them to touch their head to their knees while they were doing hamstring stretches. That was NOT going to happen for me, especially since I hadn’t even run in 3 months. And then the real fun began: we had to stretch on the ground. (In case you had forgotten, may I remind you that the field was 4 inches of dirt)

The game itself was a dust bowl. I had quite a bit of trouble adjusting to the surface as I accumulated sand castles in my shoes. Of course, I could have easily avoided the problem, like everyone else who was playing, and just not wear shoes. Maybe next time.

I walked off the field as dark-skinned as all the other players. I may have been the only white person playing but you couldn’t tell because there was so much dirt and dust on me. I don’t think I’ve EVER been as dirty as that. Walking home to jump in the shower was not an immediate option as a post-game ritual. Ami wanted desperately to take me to meet her husband who was in town for the weekend. Going to see one person in Bwiam means you will have to talk to everyone. Furthermore, you must greet EVERYONE you see with the following:

Salaam Malekum (Peace be with you!)

Person

Malekum salaam. (Peace be with you, too!)

Soumolay. (Where are the people? (meaning your family))

Person

Ibije. (They are there. (meaning at home))

Cortenante. (How are you?)

Person

Tenante. (I am fine.)

Quite a long way of saying “Hi, how are you?” In any event, Ami forced me to greet everyone which means you have micro-conversations with everyone within eyes’ reach, about 10,000 people.

After meeting her husband, Ami told me she wants me to marry him and be his third wife. She was so excited about that idea…and I honestly think she was being totally serious. I was wildly uncomfortable with that thought and didn’t know how to respond other than to laugh. I don’t think she was offended at all, but I may never understand this culture.

Though it’s only 11:30 PM here and I should be writing this with electric light, the belt on the generator broke at 9:30 this evening. And so, we’ve been without power ever since. The generator, which is about the size of a truck engine (heck, it might even BE a truck engine) powers the entire hospital because the other two, which are larger, are broken. Nevertheless, the addition of soccer and water to my day managed to salvage it.

With that, I think I’ll speak off.

with african love,

P.S. Bucket shower #2: complete. Still a miserable experience.

Day 7

2008-02-03T21:47:00.000-08:00

January 10, 2008

Our first autonomous day at the hospital! No tours! No obligations! I’m free to wander as I please!

This morning despite closing my window, I was still woken up by the darn roosters. I really have come to hate them, but have decided to name a couple anyway. So far I’ve named two roosters (Captain Charleston and Roger) and one hen (Elizabeth Taylor). I’ve got just under one week to name 19 more.

Kathryn wanted to collect patient’s data and statistics about the hospital today. Since there was no power, however, we had to disconnect the computer, put it and ourselves in a car, and drive to Mr. Badgie’s secretary’s house. While it was very riveting watching Kathryn and Mr. Badgie's secretary look at pages on a computer screen, I quickly became bored and so I walked outside with my camera. There I encountered some goats in a bathroom and some donkeys. But as I was snapping those photos, a black goat took a keen interest in me. Now I had a mildly traumatic experience with goats when I was seven years old. My parents took me to a zoo and we went into the interactive area where one could feed goats and other farm animals. I was feeding a goat with a bottle (adorable, I know) but then the goat decided that my hot pink shorts were tasty-looking and so he began to eat my shorts! When that black goat began to follow me around outside, I decided quickly that I didn’t want him eating my shorts, so I ran away. The goat, however, continued to follow me all the way to the doorway. The sheet that was hung as a door managed to befuddle and deter the goat, and I was saved, albeit humiliated as I ran into the room screaming “The goat is after me!!!!”

After that excursion, we walked to a local preschool called CCF but they were still on winter vacation. Apparently, they have school through the summer so they have a long winter break. There I met a man named Badara who invited me to help him coach soccer this afternoon, which I was very excited about.

We then went to lunch at Aminata’s. We arrived promptly at 2 PM and went to their back porch. All of the kids in the compound (about 10 or so) were hanging out, running around putting chairs down for us without being asked or told. We sat and talked to Ami for about 90 minutes and heard her life story. She is a really, really sharp woman and speaks excellent English. She told us her husband has another wife and he has 12 children overall. We are all in shock about the complete naturalness and omnipresence of polygamy here. There is absolutely no jealousy between wives and interestingly enough, it’s the role of the father to pay for all of his kids to go to school. Ami has 4 kids- Bintou, Fanta, Molamin and baby Sarita. Sarita is 18 months old and quite possibly the most photographed human being in The Gambia, thanks to us. They’re all adorable kids and most importantly, they seem happy. But after hearing Ami tell us that they don’t always eat breakfast because they don’t have enough money, it makes me want to adopt all of them.

Ami made bena chin, which is a rice dish with tomato paste, onions and fish. I am certain that the fish were incredibly fresh because a.) they told me they caught them in the river nearby and b.) there were several fish heads sticking out of my rice, staring at me. They served us an enormous amount of food, which I could not finish. I really had to take one for the team and eat more than I should have because Kathryn and her mom punked out. So about a half a pound of sand and grit, and about 45 dodged fish bones later, we left Ami’s to watch the installation of the solar water pump.

At 5:00 PM, we walked to the soccer field, but because there was a funeral in the village, we weren’t allowed to play out of respect for the deceased. We made plans to come back the next day at the same time.

We set back for the hospital and later that night, we went to the maternity ward because there was a woman there in labor. I witnessed my first childbirth and I am happy to say that it was successful. I’m not so sure I’ll look to spend a lot more time in the maternity ward watching childbirths, though. One was probably enough.

The day ended without water unfortunately. Once again, I had to crawl into my tent-bed a grimy little ball. I’ll be very glad to be back in civilization and it's hard to believe less than a week lies between me and Starbucks, showers and food that’s not rice.

Until next time…

with african love,

Day 6

2008-02-03T21:29:00.001-08:00

January 9, 2008

You really have no concept of what you have. Whenever you want, you can just walk over and flip a switch, or wash your hands at the sink, or perhaps most important, you can flush the toilet on a whim. Granted, you can always CHOOSE to spend your days in a Coleman tent, relieving yourself in a hole dug out of the ground. But as I said, you have the choice. I didn’t realize quite what I had until today, when two days after I had last showered, I found myself bathing with a cup and a large bucket full of frigid water. I’m just complaining about a lifestyle…a germaphobe lamenting her current situation in a developing nation. But at a hospital, where life can depend on being able to see at night to make a blood transfusion, it’s really not a complaint anymore. I feel good about being here. True, I loathe my living conditions. My feet are constantly caked with dust, sweat and God knows what else, I’m surrounded by a society that does not use toilet paper, and worse yet, culturally I'm expected to constantly shake the hands of those of the society that does not use toilet paper.

But I feel a strange sense of belonging with the people here. Clearly, I’m a misfit in every sense of the word. I’m white (or now, arguably red from the intense sun and red dirt coloring my skin), I wear shoes, I’m certainly not Muslim and I have an understanding and have seen parts of the globe outside my birthplace. But it’s hard not to feel happy even here at a hospital where people die every single day.

Today we took a tour of the hospital. The tour itself literally took all day as the doctors stopped and asked tons of questions at every single unit and ward we entered. I suppose it was interesting for them, but I enjoyed wandering off and looking at the goats.

The hospital itself is huge, as I suspected. It’s 100 times larger than I expected. It really does need help in the worst way. For example, today on our tour I had been consuming large amounts of water and decided I was going to use the bathroom next to where the group was currently bombarding the nurses with questions. I walked into a stall, and without thinking about it, pulled the door shut behind me. When I turned around, however, I realized that there was no handle on this side of the door and that I was locked in! I panicked and began screaming Kathryn’s name at the top of my voice, forgetting that she was standing about 5 feet away from the bathroom. She quickly scampered in and asked me what was wrong and I informed her of my situation. Luckily, I was saved. But it’s those small things that need to be looked after so people aren’t getting locked in bathrooms.

After our tour ended at about 5 PM, Kathryn wanted to go visit some old friends in the village to give them pictures from the last time she was there. We quickly drew a crowd of children screaming "TOUBAB!". Sadly, we even scared the living daylights out of a few babies because they had never seen a white person before. I learned that a perfectly acceptable and even funny response to the toubab calls is "MUFFINO!" (black person!) or "MUFFIN-DIN-DINGO!" (black kid!). Those kinds of calls certainly would not fly in the United States.

I spent most of our time there with four boys who were about nine years old. They are Alesan, Lamin, Abdu and Modu. I told them we could play football (soccer) tomorrow and so I think that’s why th ey stayed so close to me. Alesan held my hand the entire time and when my hand would begin to get sweaty, he’d quickly wipe it off with his shirt. My other hand was often fought over and so I had to settle several scuffles with only one hand. The boys offered to teach me Mandinka and taught me how to say donkey and horse. So now I can greet people, ask them their name, and say donkey, horse and my shoe is on fire. We also met the mother of one of the kids whose name is Aminata. I didn’t talk to her much, but apparently she invited us over for lunch tomorrow. THAT will be an adventure…

Today GamSolar began to install the solar panels for the water pump. If all goes according to plan, we will have full time running water this week which is FANTASTIC news!

All in all, it was a very fun, fulfilling and tiring day and I know I’ll sleep well tonight, so long as the donkeys don’t wake me up.

with african love,

Day 5

2008-02-03T21:09:00.000-08:00

January 8, 2008

Hard to believe I’ve only been gone for one week. I feel like I’m a million miles away from my life at home. Oh wait, I am.

This morning we began our day by visiting with the Permanent Secretary for the Department of State for Foreign Affairs. It’s rather interesting to me that they have permanent secretaries, and secretaries. Meaning that they have a Permanent Secretary for the Department of State for Foreign Affairs, and a Secretary for the Department of State for Foreign Affairs. I don’t know the difference between the two roles, but my understanding is that the non-permanent secretary is higher up in the food chain. It was another successful meeting- perhaps even more so than with the Department of Health because I didn’t get called out while I was in Gambian penguin La-La land. He was very adamant about getting us in contact with several members of the President of The Gambia’s cabinet. Getting our foot in THAT door would be huge for the project, simply for no other reason other than the President is fully aware of the progress. We’ll keep our fingers crossed.

After that meeting we went to the “toubab” supermarket to pick up last minute water, toilet paper and the ESSENTIAL Lion chocolate bars. “Toubab” is a word in Mandinka that means “white foreigner”. It’s freely used and doesn’t have a negative connotation (for the most part) so very often when I’m strolling down the street, kids will point at me and scream “TOUBAB!!!” Nevertheless, as soon as I stepped out of Mr. Badgie’s car, I was approached by a street vendor. At this point in the trip, I’m fairly used to them offering me peanuts (or as they call them, groundnuts) or bananas, but this guy appeared to reach into his pocket and pull out a whole raw shrimp complete with legs, tail, eyes…THE WORKS! I took one look at the limp brown thing in his hand, looked back at him, and shook my head furiously. Clearly the toubab would not be interested in your pocket shrimp, brother.

We had lunch at the new Sheraton which they built right on the beach (read: ON THE BEACH). It was fantastic! I was able to eat raw vegetables without fear of getting sick!

We left for the airport at 2:45 and arrived at 2:55. When we walked in the door, we learned we were about an hour early for their flight. We decided to take a walk around the airport. The Banjul airport is about the size of an airport that would be built in Brewster, Kansas, so we couldn’t do much walking inside. Instead, since there is VERY little airport security, we took a stroll around the grounds. I’m not exaggerating when I say that we strolled around to within 15 feet of the runway, no questions asked.

We sat down under a mango tree and waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally at around 6:00 PM, we pulled out of the airport with the doctors and hit the road!

The journey to Bwiam takes about two hours, though it’s only about 100 kilometers. Why do you ask? Because the road ends!

For the last hour of the ride, we bounced along a red dirt road. Many times throughout the journey, we couldn’t see six feet in front of us because of the dense dust cloud. Even more frequently did we have to slow down and honk at chickens, goats, and sheep as they lazily crossed the road.

Finally when we arrived at the hospital, it was dark. I haven’t seen any of it really because, as we know, there is very little electricity. However tomorrow I will get the full tour. I will say that already, I know the place is HUGE.

In any event, I’m going to sleep in my mosquito-netted tie-and-dye bed. Yes, tie-dye is widely practiced here but it’s called tie-and-dye. Mr. Badgie proudly told me he made them himself. Pretty groovy if you ask me.

with african love,

P.S. Mr. Badgie told me he has 24 chickens. I asked him if they had names and he said no. I told him I would name all 24.

P.P.S. Ten minutes after he told me he has 24 chickens, he informed me that he would have two slaughtered in honor of our presence at the hospital. OK. Make that 22.

P.P.S. I learned how to say “My shoe is on fire!” in Mandinka today. It should prove incredibly useful, I have no doubt.

Day 4

2008-02-03T20:57:00.000-08:00

Jan. 6, 2008

Today I learned what it means to be a true business person…in The Gambia. The entire day was full of meeting with many different people, as previously promised.

First we met with the company that will be installing the solar panels at the hospital. They’re called GamSolar. From what I can understand, the system is going to be fantastic. State of the art equipment with a commitment to maintenance and upkeep that will insure the longevity of the panels. In the next day or two, we will begin phase one of the project, which is comprised of a solar-powered water pump. If all goes according to plan, the hospital could have running water as early as tomorrow!

Then we went to visit several schools in the Banjul area to forge a penpal program between several Delaware and Pennsylvania schools with some Gambian counterparts. The first school we went to, the Apple Tree School, had the most calming man as its headmaster. I'm honestly not sure I've felt more at ease upon first meeting a person in my entire life. Something about him just totally screamed "Be at ease, my friends, for I am God." Maybe he was God, or maybe he wasn't, but either way, I'm glad for some inexplicable reason to have met him.

After GamSolar, we met with the Permanent Secretary of the Department of State for Health. It’s quite a long-winded title, but the guy is very important in the government. In any event, we walked into his office and made our typical introductions ("Hi, I’m Jess. The friend.") We all sat down and Kathryn began to give her schpiel. Soon, Kathryn’s mom began to chime in with an occasional addition or two. I sat and looked at the Christmas cards on his coffee table. It was funny, he had one with penguins on it that said “Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!” but I digress. Out of no where, the Permanent Secretary looked at ME and said “Do you want to say anything?” Quick! Get yourself out of the imaginary Gambian winter wonderland! I’m pretty sure my eyes bugged out of my head, as I was NOT expecting this. Luckily, I hadn’t completely zoned out of the conversation and I added “Well, yes. Just this morning we visited several schools…blah…blah…blah” and proceeded to ramble about the educational sector of Power Up Gambia. I’m not really sure what I said, because I was still in shock that he cold called me like that. Nevertheless, it was a successful meeting as he was very impressed with the project and wants to help in any way that he can.

By the time we finished all of our meetings, it was 4 PM. Lunch time, finally. So we ate at an outdoor café in Banjul. We visited an internet café for about 20 minutes because the temperature inside that room must have been 120 degrees. Celsius.

We went out to dinner that night at a restaurant owned by a man who was of Lebanese descent, but born and raised in The Gambia. Yet he spent 13 years as a top stylist at Elizabeth Arden in New York. He’s quite a fellow…and the food was excellent.

Today was our last full day in Banjul! Tomorrow we go to Bwiam where the hospital is located. The doctors and videographer from Delaware are also coming in tomorrow so we will pick them up from the airport and then embark on the 90-120 minute drive.

I look forward to starting this new chapter in this book about…well…The Gambia.

with african love,

Day 3

2008-02-03T20:53:00.000-08:00

Jan. 6, 2008

Day 3 in the Gambia and I’m being eaten alive. I have no idea what or who is biting me, but I’m completely peppered in bites. Despite covering myself in Deet, something is having a field day on my tasty American flesh.

Sunday, the Christian day of rest doesn’t really exist here as a.) it is a predominantly Muslim country and b.) every day is a traditional day of rest. Today we were afforded the opportunity to see an untouched part of the coastline that was truly breathtaking. The owners of our hotel, Maurice and Geri are building an eco-lodge/cultural exchange center right on the beach near the Southern Senegal border. The property is beautiful, but their intentions are the really amazing part. This lodge will be predominantly powered by solar energy, it features compost toilets (your poop becomes their fertilizer!) but most impressively, their buildings are made out of the Earth. They’re constructed of blocks of compressed dirt. It’s similar to the idea of adobe, but they contract local workers to press this “dough” into bricks, blocks and other shapes. The lodges are true luxury housing with domed roofs, private balconies and a plunge pool, which I couldn’t determine if it was a hot tub, or just a really small swimming pool. It’s all top notch- but I was most taken aback by the sense of isolation. When we were walking back from the beach, literally the only sounds to be heard were the waves crashing on the shore and the rustling palm trees. It really made you feel like you were a member of the Swiss Family Robinson and want to build a massive treehouse compound.

It took nearly an hour to drive basically the width of The Gambia. On the way back, our driver, Bakary, all of a sudden pulled over at one of the tiny villages, jumped out of the car, and ran into one of the huts. My eyes got pretty big, I imagine, because Mr. Badgie immediately reassured me that he was just running in to grab something. However, soon after he ran into that hut, the car was completely surrounded by kids smashing their faces against the windows all while screaming “HELLO!” This continued for another 10 minutes while we waited. They’d say hello, we’d say hello back, they’d laugh. They’d say hello, we’d say hello back, they’d laugh. FINALLY Bakary returned with a covered tub. I learned it was filled with fresh milk and immediately I began praying that he’d step on it to get back because I didn’t want any sour milk.

One thing I noticed about the ancient Peugeot station wagon we were in, was that the speedometer didn’t work. I determined this by noting it read ZERO as we cruised by various cars. We were NOT at rest, however. It wasn’t a large problem though because there are no speed limits posted. There are many “police checkpoints” located throughout the country I noticed as well. I have no idea what the police are looking for in these rather un-invasive check zones…perhaps skin bleaching materials which are illegal to bring into The Gambia?

Tomorrow will be the busiest day yet. We meet with the solar panel company, the chairman of the board at the hospital, the permanent secretary of the Department of State for Health as well as the permanent secretary of the Department of State for Foreign Affairs. In between all of these visits, we must also go to two schools to drop of letters for a penpal program Power Up Gambia has forged between schools in Delaware and Pennsylvania and The Gambia. Though it’s a busy day, I will FOR SURE have time to write, because the only entertainment I have is watching my camera charge.

Keep your nose and ears clean, because it sure is dusty.

with african love,
jz

Day 2

2008-02-03T20:44:00.000-08:00

Jan. 5, 2008

Today I got a good, or at least a better look at this populated area surrounding the capital. I woke at 8 AM this morning to the jubilant crow of a rooster. When I walked out of our hotel room, I saw 5 or 6 chickens running through the hotel’s courtyard and I couldn’t help but wonder if their very eggs were hardboiled and laid out on the breakfast buffet. At 10:23, our friend and hospital director Kebba Badgie picked us up and took us to the post office. We had tried to go the day before, but by 2 PM, the post office is closed most days of the week. After the post office, we traveled to downtown Banjul.

In downtown Banjul, we nearly ran over 3 goats crossing the street as we made our way to the country’s best and most advanced hospital, the Royal Victoria Teaching Hospital. Our guide, Mr. Badgie used to work there before transferring to the Bwiam hospital we will be visiting in a few days. He knew everyone we ran into, partially because he said he was related to more than half of them. I already know I’m in for a shock when I arrive at the Bwiam hospital. Today I learned that the first ever Gambian doctors will not be full M.D.s until 2 years from now. That’s how new the first and only medical school in The Gambia is. There are no Gambian specialists and there isn’t even a single cardiologist in the entire country. Walking through the hospital made me appreciate the nasty meals served in our country’s finest institutions. I yearned for the sterile white halls of Christiana, the god-awful nurse uniforms. But most of all, I missed the hum and beep of machinery. It simply doesn’t happen here.

After we left the hospital (insert huge sigh of relief here) we went to more touristy areas of town, on the water. Mr. Badgie took us to where the River Gambia meets the Atlantic Ocean and consequently forced me to dip my feet in. (“It’s warm!” he triumphantly exclaimed) We were followed around that beach by a group of eight 12-year old boys who said nothing but followed us, got into our faces and stared at us the whole time we were there. They did say good-bye though.

Later we went to a local craft market at Bakau where Mr. Badgie bargained down all our purchases for us. Everything is such a steal, I honestly almost feel bad buying stuff. There are 21 Gambian dalasis to one US dollar.

Tonight for dinner, we decided to eat at the hotel. Our waiter was the same waiter we’ve had the past couple nights during our evening sipping sessions. We have the most awkward interactions with Sarjo, which is his name. I know what you’re thinking. “Why is he named Sarjo?” Well, you see, when a boy is born after twins in The Gambia, he is named Sarjo. So, Sarjo has older twin siblings. He speaks English pretty well, but tonight when we were ordering, he for some reason found it totally necessary to write down our orders in complete sentences. "She will have the pumpkin and spinach curry with rice." It took about 5 minutes to write down all of our orders.

Tomorrow we will continue to meet with lots of people. We may have some free time, however, to sit on the beach for a little while. At 13 degrees North latitude, I’m not going to last long in the equatorial sun. Till next time, be grateful you don’t have chickens waking you up in the morning. And if you do, well…just be grateful.

with african love,
jz

Day 1

2008-02-03T19:56:00.000-08:00

Jan. 4, 2008

Before I begin, I want to preface the following entries. From January 1-January 15, I traveled to The Gambia, in Western Africa with my friend Kathryn Cunningham, her mother Carol Cunningham, as well as three doctors from Christiana Hospital and a videographer who later met up with us there. In the village of Bwiam, there is a hospital called the Sulayman Jungkung General Hospital which receives less than 10 hours of electricity per day. This consequently means they also only receive 10 hours of running water. In these kinds of conditions, vaccinations and immunizations cannot be kept refrigerated, ventilators and oxygen machines cannot be run, nor can incubators. It’s a sad situation and incredibly hard for us to imagine. However, Power Up Gambia! is striving to raise $300,000 to install a solar powered electrical system including a water pump. At this time, I have determined that my precise functions on the trip were Humorist/ Mandinka Translator/Official Name Bestower of all Goats Encountered. Enjoy.

Finally, after several long days of travel, The Gambia has become my home for a short while. I should start at the very beginning, a very good place to start…

We left from Philadelphia on the evening of January 1^st. I had drugged myself for the flight to Manchester, England but naturally the Tylenol PM didn’t have any effect until 8 hours after I had taken it. This meant I spent 6 hours straight crossing the Atlantic trying to fall asleep, yet unable to due to an ongoing battle with the personal television screen in front of me. It’s luminescence was driving me up the wall and made me even more figety than the Tylenol PM did. We finally landed in Manchester at 10:30 AM on January 2^nd, collected our bags and made our way out of baggage claim to find our driver who was to take us to Kathryn’s grandparents’ house, which was another 90 minutes away in the Lake District.

The Lake District is a most whimsical place. It is the birthplace of Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit, a home to William Wordsworth but more importantly it is home to more brightly colored sheep than I have ever seen. Thousands of sheep dot the rolling landscape. But these aren’t ordinary sheep, no. Apparently they are painted bright greens, and blues and reds to identify their owners. Never before had I seen blue sheep, but I must say I look forward to seeing them again.

It was my first visit to England and all of the stereotypes about them are true. They have tea every day...

they eat a truck load of sausage, and French fries (otherwise known as chips) form the base of their food pyramid. Not only that, but they are entirely unafraid to let you know if they aren’t understanding something. For instance, both drivers who took us to and from the airport had no idea where they were taking us either time. We had to not just direct them to Kathryn’s grandparents house but also, read directions to our hotel that was literally right next to the airport. Silly brutes.

And now I am in Africa. The dark continent. The sun, however, shines incredibly brightly and is very hot. The people are very nice and offer to do everything, in exchange for payment of course. I nearly wrestled a guy today as he kept trying to carry my bag for me. They speak English as well as several tribal languages called Mandinka, Wollof, and Jola. Unfortunately, none of them are clicking languages. Our hotel that we’re staying at here in the capital city of Banjul is called the Safari Gardens. Fear not, there are no lions, giraffes or migrating wildebeests. Just millions of chirping birds. It’s everything you’re hope an African hotel would be, and less! No TV, no separation between shower and the rest of the bathroom (you can sit on the toilet and take a shower at the same time!) and no air conditioning. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be a true African experience sans bathing in Deet so I’m grateful for this opportunity.

It will be a busy two weeks and I’m sure they will fly by. I look forward to showing everyone that even I, Jessica Zutz, can handle Africa.

with african love,